As a child, I enjoyed playing in the cemetery near my grandmother’s house. Maybe the silence drew me there, or the ambience within the stone walls surrounding the canting gravestones. Whatever the reason, I still enjoy meandering among the worn headstones and speculating on those lying beneath my feet.
As a teen, I devoured Gothic novels, losing myself in desolate mansions populated by dysfunctional residents, both living and passed. I still enjoy a good, dark thrill.
The Gothika Series is my contribution to the genre. Unexpected circumstances, characters who aren’t necessarily who they appear to be, some deeply flawed, and disturbing secrets come to light as the heroine struggles to overcome the situation she has found herself in.
At times, she questions her own sanity. After all, what can be more frightening — that which you can see, or what you can’t?
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